Day: January 8, 2019

Thinking maybe one of my 2019 resolutions should be finally sharing my art on Tumblr x) Drawing for/with the community was kind of a big part of my 2018 on Twitter, yet for some reason I wanted to keep a divide between the art and the Stewarts legacy?

Thinking on a way to merge the two, in the meantime, here’s the avatar I drew in May when I joined Twitter!

Also while I’m at it, sorry for not posting in forever, the end of 2018 was really weird. Trying to get back in that beautiful August 2018 mindset. And also sorry for the post spam, I really wanted to get past New Year’s while it was still relevant.

Dancing

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The music is blasting, and as soon as we step into the heavily decorated living-room, we get greeted by everyone Gram never mentioned she had invited. Nolan and Aunt Miranda are no surprise, really, but Mom is elated to see Shanna here, too, her friend from their teenage years.

Something about how Charlotte, her wife, was away on a business trip for her fashion brand, and the kids were at their grandparents’, so Gram invited her.

I’d normally prefer to be among family only, but I like Shanna. She’s an observer. Also, her being here just makes mom look so happy.

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Only Shanna and Mom know how to dance, really, but does it really matter?

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Nope.

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… Clearly, it doesn’t.

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Would it be the twins at all if they didn’t hang out with each other all night?

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Gram doesn’t yet know that I’ve been let go from the museum. Don’t really feel like telling her now. Just so happy to see her. And I mean, it’s not like she never hides anything.

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Don’t wanna think about any of that tonight though, tonight is for dancing.

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And of course, watching the countdown on TV!

All Dressed Up

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As we step on Gram’s terrace, I’m pretty sure we’ve never looked more dapper. Except for you know, the silly New Year’s glasses, but the twins and I chose to believe they were charming.

Dad’s even wearing a tux! Mom laughs he didn’t go fancier than a dark T-shirt for their wedding. Guess he succumbed to the peer pressure of his wife and children looking absolutely bomb.

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This is me, in the background. Cyril did not care for taking a picture of my outfit. Thanks bro.

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Greeted by Gram, the Princess of Winter herself, whose cold-resistant shoulders Mom apparently inherited?

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One picture, Cyril, that’s all I wanted. Anyway, here we go. The New Year is mere hours away!

Snow on New Year’s Eve

Did I mention we are spending our New Year’s Eve party at Gram’s house? The old family house never disappoints, quirky yet majestic, and of course, aptly decorated for the season and the occasion. The thin coat of snow is so perfect I could have thought Gram had layered it herself.

Gram also won’t divulge if she had any help in setting up such a dreamlike atmosphere. I sure hope her thousand-year-old butt didn’t drag those nutcrackers statues outside on her own.

Isn’t she cold?

The Last Snowpals

New Year’s Eve — and Spring’s first day — is just around the corner. This might be our last chance to get a few more snowpals in… So all afternoon long, any neighbour looking out their window would see the complete Stewarts family outside, playing in front of our house, assembling snow and accessories.

And I’m pleased to report my very last snowpal of the year is a success! I think they call this personal growth.

Hugo’s Parenting Skills

So Dad’s idea of emotional support was an evening at the Newcrest pub. He tried to pass his sudden need for a cold pressure beer and a game of darts he would lose as “introducing me to the place his and mom’s friends celebrated their 18th birthday”. Oh, Dad, I know you so much better than that.

At some point of the evening, without looking at me, he finally articulated what he’d really wanted the father-daughter moment to be about. He told me, whatever happened, he was proud of me. Then he messed up his dart throw.

I just went in to hug him.

The Gardener

So the first few days after Winterfest were a disaster for me. But I’m pleased to report, my brother was enjoying his gardening kit immensely. For weeks no one could pass through the entry hall without a whiff of fresh roses, or whatever scented flower he more or less managed to grow. He took it at heart, observing, and researching, and making us all wholeheartedly believe this was a career in the making.

Unlike his older sister, who had lost hers.